In Revelation, the Beast is functionally a Devil Incarnate,
with a counterfeit resurrection (13:3). The second Beast performs miracles,
which parody the miracles of Christ (13:13-15). In that same vein, 20:7-10 may
represent a counterfeit Parousia: the second coming of Satan!

Conversely, it’s possible that the downfall of Satan in Rev
12 & 20 represents a judicial inversion of the Ascension. Christ goes up,
returning to heaven. By contrast, Satan, who aspired to godhood, spirals down.
First he’s cast down from heaven. Then he’s cast down into the Netherworld.
It’s a steady descent from the heights to the depths.

Put another way, the Devil’s downward motion represents a
classic tragedy, whereas the Son’s downward motion is preliminary to the upward
motion, which represents the classic comedy.

Like the contest between Moses and the Egyptian magicians,
the diabolical counterfeit has severe limits.

For those of you who have thought that God doesn’t really
expect you to study this protracted description (because, after all, it’s
symbolic of something or other), here’s a great chance to correct the
deficiency.

I am a big believer in the utility of Ezekiel’s Temple
vision in Ezekiel 40-48 for dealing with those brethren who want to disbelieve
what the Bible says while claiming to believe it.I especially like to call out those who will not be honest
enough just to state the obvious truth that they spiritualize the text (as in
they claim a concrete depiction of a named entity should be thought of as a
spiritual picture of a different concrete entity).In Ezekiel 40ff. you cannot use the “Apocalyptic” card.

Sometimes people reveal more about themselves than they
intend. Henebury is such a proud, self-congratulatory bigot.

Moreover, one of the problems with his statement is the
implication that he’d lose his faith if God didn’t fulfill the vision according
to Henebury’s stipulative preconception.

Therefore, those who cannot bring themselves to believe that
Ezekiel is really referring to an actual physical Temple, whether they be
dispensational or covenant theologians, should be pinned down on these chapters
and asked to explain a). what they are supposed to really mean; b). what sort
of hermeneutical practice is involved, and c). why on earth did God not simply
say what He meant?

Surely these are good questions?

I tried in vain to deal with a gainsayer on these specific
issues but to no avail.He was
more interested in telling me what it didn’t mean than what it did.

Henebury dissimulates about our conversation. But let’s
respond one more time. And let’s take his questions in reverse order:

c) why on earth did God not simply say what He meant?

i) That’s not a real question. That’s a loaded question. An
accusation couched as a faux question. A question that builds a tendentious
premise into the formulation. As if those who dare to differ with Henebury
don’t think God said what he meant.

ii) Moreover, Henebury’s way of framing the issue is foolish
and silly. One might as well ask, Why on earth didn’t God simply say what he
meant in Ezk 37:1-14, instead of that strange business about reassembling and
reanimating skeletons? Why on earth didn’t God simply say what he meant in Ezk
29:3-4, instead of comparing Pharaoh to a Nile crocodile? Why on earth didn’t
God simply say what he meant in Ezk 4:2, instead of directing the prophet to
play with a clay model of Jerusalem (Ezk 4:1-2)?

b) what sort of hermeneutical practice is involved?

i) The grammatico-historical method. One element of that
hermeneutic is audiencial meaning. Bible writers (and speakers) generally
intend to be understandable to their immediate audience. So meaning is to that
degree anchored in the potential understanding of the original audience. What
the audience would be able to grasp.

ii) In the case of prophecy, a further distinction may be in
order. The audience to whom the oracle is originally addressed may not be the
same as the audience for whom the oracle is fulfilled. There can be a
considerable time lapse. In that respect, a prophecy can be intended for a
future audience.

How or when we apply that distinction depends on the
context. Some oracles are short-term prophecies. Other oracles are long-term
prophecies. For instance, Jeremiah’s prophecy concerning the end of the exile
is a fairly short-term prophecy (Jer 29:10).

a) what they are supposed to really mean?

Before we answer that question, we need to lay down some
ground rules.

i) We need to distinguish between literal events and literal
depictions. For instance, Ezk 37:1-14 depicts a literal event in symbolic
terms. It depicts the restoration of Israel. That’s a literal event. But the
depiction is symbolic.

ii) We need to distinguish between pictures and
propositions. Images aren’t meaningful in the same way that sentences are
meaningful. Unlike sentences, images don’t make assertions.

a) An image needn’t mean anything. For instance, an artist
can paint a scene from his imagination. The scene doesn’t stand for anything.
It doesn’t represent something he saw. Rather, he paints the imaginary scene
because he finds it pleasant or interesting.

c) Ezk 40-48 is an extended word-picture. A series of
images. The images don’t contain dates. An image, all by itself, doesn’t point
to the past, present, or future. An image, by itself, is chronologically
indefinite or indeterminate.

Suppose you’re shown a picture of a river valley. You can’t
tell from the picture when that was taken or where that was taken.

Ezk 40-48 is a record of what the prophet saw. There’s
nothing in the imagery itself to say when it happens.

d) Of course, when imagery is embedded in a text, the text
can supply a chronological or geographical frame of reference. A literary image
signifies whatever the writer assigns to it.

e)
Ezekiel is addressing the exilic community. What could this mean to them? I
think chaps. 40-48 present pictorially what Ezk 36:22-38 & 37:26-27 present
more prosaically. Same message, different medium. Likewise, I think Ezk 37:1-14
and Ezk 40-48 are different imaginative depictions of the same reality.

The regathering of the diaspora.Repatriation to the land of Israel. In that respect, the
vision had reference to the near future.

f) However, because mere imagery isn’t time-indexed, the same
images, or modified images, can refer to more than one event. Bear a
one-to-many correspondence.

That’s why Revelation can see parts of Ezk 40-48 fulfilled
in a different setting than the postexilic restoration of Israel. Here the
themes of God’s compresence with his people, shalom, and the Davidic messiah,
take place in the world to come. The consummation. In that respect, the vision
had reference to the distant future.

John isn’t reinterpreting Ezekiel’s vision, for pictorial
scenes have no intrinsic interpretation. What they represent is determined by
the author. Their representative significance is assigned.

Of course, certain kinds of images are more naturally suited
to represent certain kinds events than others. The historical referents aren’t
imposed on the images arbitrarily.

g) From our position in church history, I think Ezk 40-48 is
both past and future. To some extent the vision pictures the aftermath of the
Babylonian exile. That lies behind us.

But to some extent the
vision pictures the end of the church age, and the onset of the eternal age.
That lies ahead of us.

I’m glad to see you admit what I suspected was implicit in your position all along: That you aren’t 100% certain of any given theological doctrine (including, one imagines, trinitarianism, two sacraments vs. seven, sola scriptura, etc). You are, as you put it, 99.999% certain of these things, and if being 99.999% certain that James is part of the canon cuts the mustard for you, well, at least we know where you stand….

I’ll leave to others to dispute the other more substantive claims you make, but I did want to point out that it’s absolutely nothing like “Protestantism gives you 99.999% confidence as a theological methodology and Catholicism offers 100% certainty, so why strain at gnats over that last .0001%?” (my summary, not a direct quote). Instead, it’s going to be more like “Catholicism, if true, offers 100% confidence in the correctness of its theological doctrines and if false offers 0% confidence. Protestantism, if true, always must offer less than 100% confidence and probably a lot less, and if false also offers 0% confidence”. Once you look at the math like we did above (we hit ~77% probability with only 3 propositions, each of which we assigned at least a 90% probability of being true), the probability of correctness that Protestantism can offer to a systematic theology, even if Protestantism is true, is a heckuva lot smaller than you were making it out to be.

I’ve described in my previous comment, or, if it didn’t get published, here, and here, why I think the 99.999% [or whatever that number becomes] is far more sufficient than your “100% confidence” level.

Certainly, based on conservative Protestant methodologies, our knowledge level will never, ever fall to 0% [which is a danger if Rome is “false”, but because we know “true truth”, will always have value.]

As I described it in a private email:

What Michael Liccione’s “IP” enables him to do set up a chain of deductions by which, if any one premise can’t be “ruled out by logical deduction”, then they can say X is “not inconsistent with Roman Catholic Doctrine”. This is how their argument for “authority” works.

You remember “must-see TV” – Roman Catholic dogma has a long string of “must have” things happen in order for the Roman Catholic authority structure to be true (Peter as first pope, recognized authority through the lineage that they give). If the probability that any one of them (or even most of them) is .001%, but if you haven't ruled it out by logical deduction (which can’t be done in a historical context, just as you can’t completely rule out the existence of Blue Men on Mars by logical deduction), then they claim, “It’s true because Rome says it’s true”.

I’ve argued strenuously from an analysis of leadership structures in first century Palestine and the Roman “household” community and Clement and Hermas relating how “presbyters” and “episcopoi” were interchangeable, how Hermas chided a council of elders that presided over the church of 2nd century Rome – all that, and others – that more than confirm that the story they present just absolutely cannot have been true, from a historical perspective.

However, there is no way to totally exclude any of these “must-have” points. If you do, they’ll say “it’s an argument from silence”. (What went un-responded to was my citation of R.P.C. Hanson citing Tertullian to the effect that the Assumption of Mary never occurred because if it did, Tertullian would certainly have known about it.

All they need is that .001% possibility, occasioned by the fact that “you can’t rule it out 100%”, and thus, because Rome made it a dogma, and because it hasn't been ruled out by logical deduction, “it must be the way Rome says it was” (see Bryan's comments about why “apparent contradictions” are never “actual contradictions” according to the Catholic “IP”).

This strain of thought, by which they claim their authority, is totally separate from the historical doctrinal efforts in councils, such as the Trinity, Christology, etc.

First, no doubt there are historical “developments” such as the increase in understanding that led to the doctrines of the Trinity. Even though there was historical development, YOU CAN prove the Trinity from the Scriptures. Steve Hays has done so. He never contends for anything that's not Scriptural, and the Trinity is a cornerstone of his (“Biblicist” – or “solo Scriptura) theology.

The line of thinking on Roman authority, however, from the first century through the definitions of 1854, 1870, and 1950, however, were all done in a both a biblical and historical vacuum. [Actually, we know how “papal infallibility” developed]. But YOU CAN NOT prove any of these three things from the Scriptures. That is what I mean by “vacuum”.

This is “the shape” of what they stand on. The authority is invisible and non-existent, but you can’t rule any step out by logical deduction, and so they take credit for the whole thing.

The Protestant hermeneutic, the “grammatical historical method”, seeks to start at the beginning, to understand who the people are (the writers, the various audiences) – to understand “what they knew and when they knew it”, and yes, to build an inductive case, which never claims 100% perfection, but as I said above, I will hold with that 99.999% figure. There is no “epistemological crisis”.

So the churches of the Reformation build their case from actual Scripture and history, this practice, not being “logical deduction”, does not give the ability to claim “100% certainty”. But I say, “so what”?

We know what we know with a great deal of certainty, and we know it from based on the “hermeneutical methods” provided by the various disciplines, whether from historical studies or language or other forms of Old and New Testament scholarship.

Roman Catholics know things (a) that cannot be falsified, and (b) on the basis of an assertion of authority from Rome.

So far as I remember, that “appeal to authority” is a logical fallacy, is it not?

This is something that Nathan Rinne picked up on a couple of weeks ago:

Earlier in the thread [the “Visible Church” thread], in post # 221, John Thayer Jensen wrote: “… people often seem to me to make the mistake of deciding, first, what things are true – which implies some external canon – and then looking around for the body that teaches that.”

Michael Liccione, responded to that in post # 222 saying, “And that is the very essence of Protestantism. One assumes that the deposit of faith is knowable independently of ecclesial authority, and that one knows its content. Then one chooses a church whose teaching conforms with that.”

In his comment “people often seem to me to make the mistake of deciding, first, what things are true … and then looking around for the body that teaches that”, John Thayer Jensen has described perfectly well what I’ve called the “Roman Catholic Hermeneutic”.

This is an almost perfect description of “how the Magisterium operates”. It, of course, has the body of doctrine for which it is responsible, “the formal proximate object of faith”, which it “infallibly” hands on, and thus you all have 100% epistemological certainty as to what is “divine revelation” contrasted with “mere human opinion”.

There
are many reasons why people hold on to their beliefs in supernatural things.
Many of these reasons, I think, are psychological ones—people hold on to
supernatural beliefs because not having them would be psychologically
unacceptable in some way (or in many ways). In other words, they have—or think
they have—certain psychological needs that could not be met if they did not
hold on to some sort of supernatural belief. For instance, my stepmother has
told me multiple times that she has to believe in God because she has to
believe that she will see her dead parents again. A more extreme example here
is the tendency for people to think that, without belief in the supernatural,
they would not be able to have any hope whatsoever. Nonbelief, they think, is "a
recipe for despair." This view of nonbelief probably stems from the belief
that belief in God, or at least belief in some supernatural power, is the
source or foundation of hope. For if this is believed, then the rejection of
the supernatural amounts to the rejection of the source or foundation of hope,
which makes hope impossible and despair the only appropriate reaction.

With this working conception of hope in place, I can now
turn to the idea that nonbelief is a recipe for despair. I imagine that this idea
is due, at least in part, to the fact that there is indeed no room for certain
hopes without some sort of spiritual or supernatural belief to prop them up.
For instance, if no belief about spiritual realms or entities is true, then
there can be (a) no immortality of any kind (and thus no evil-free afterlife in
Heaven, and no reunion with dead friends or loved ones) and (b) no guarantee
that justice will ultimately prevail. If no belief about spiritual realms or
entities is true, then death permanently ends our conscious experience—our own
as well as that of our friends and loved ones. So even if we desire to live
forever in Heaven or elsewhere, or to see our deceased friends and loved ones
again, these are not live possibilities for nonbelievers. And if no belief
about spiritual realms or entities is true, then there is also no supernatural
figure or power to ensure that justice will ultimately prevail. So although we
want to be sure that justice will prevail, this too is simply not a live option
for nonbelievers. Consequently, condition (3) cannot be met for any of these
desired outcomes, and thus nonbelievers cannot have any kind of hope in regard
to them.

Nevertheless, it does not follow that there is no room
whatsoever for hope if one holds a naturalistic worldview. For no matter how
important the "lost" hopes might be, their exclusion does not entail
the exclusion of all hope, just like the exclusion of 18-wheelers from the
average residential garage does not entail the exclusion of all motor vehicles.
In fact, there is plenty of room for both confident and fairly reasonably hopes
on a naturalistic worldview: a nonbeliever can confidently or reasonably hope
that he or she will get that dream job, be admitted to a good doctoral program,
make a positive impact on the lives of others or the community, recover from
setbacks, find true love, live a long and fruitful life, and so on. When it
comes to these sorts of things, nonbelievers are just as entitled to
confidently or reasonably hope for them as believers in the supernatural are;
for such things are definitely not desperately improbable in a naturalistic
world and, in many cases, they warrant confidence in their realization.
Therefore, it is patently false that nonbelief is a recipe for despair.

Can atheism lay a foundation for hope? Take “making a
positive impact on the lives of others or the community, recover from setbacks,
finding true love, living a long and fruitful life.”

But if atheism is true, then we’re just sand people. What
does a sandman “making a positive impact” on the lives of other sandmen amount
to? What does the “fruitful life” of a sandman amount to?

Every generation is an Etch A Sketch generation. The passage
of time turns us upside down and shake us up, reducing us to a pile of sand.
Then the process begins all over again. A new generation of sand people. We
live in the sandbox until the passage of time turns us back into heaps of sand.

Yes, you can fall in love with a sand woman, and you can
father sand children. But the sand is continuously recycled.

Where’s the hope in that? Does life inside the sandbox lay a
foundation for hope? Hope is forward-leaning. Future-oriented. But what’s your
future in the sandbox?

Suppose an outsider walks by the sandbox every year. Every
year he sees a new set of sand people as he passes by. New sand families where
last year’s sand families used to be. A new sand community where last year’s
community used to be.

It doesn’t matter who existed or never existed. It doesn’t
matter in what order the sand people appear or pass away.

After
one has accepted the truth of atheism, questions about its value arise. Once
you conclude that there probably is no God, then what? Is this fact worth
defending? Should atheists even bother to rebut their critics and develop
arguments for their positions?

The main reasons why I think that atheism is worth defending
are epistemic ones. The first of these reasons is quite simple: atheism is a
true or rational belief. As both intrinsically and instrumentally valuable
things, truth and rational belief are very important goods; so any belief will
be valuable insofar as it is true or rational, and this value constitutes a
very good reason to defend it. Other epistemic reasons for defending atheism
are constituted by our duties as responsible epistemic agents. As such agents,
we have a duty to defend true and rational beliefs for their own sake, as well
as a duty to defend true and rational beliefs in order to engender such beliefs
in other epistemic agents.

From a secular standpoint, what makes truth “intrinsically”
good? What makes anything intrinsically good from that vantage point?

What if nothing is good? What if true and false beliefs are
equally harmful? What if, no matter what you believe, you are doomed?

Why does Stringer assume we even have duties, much less an
inalienable duty to defend truth for truth’s sake? Why should we be responsible
epistemic agents? What if I’d rather be irresponsible? If I lose either way,
what’s the difference?What if
it’s more fun to be irresponsible?

Suppose I’m an atheist. Suppose I’m abducted. Suppose my
captor gives me a choice. On the one hand, I can continue to cling to me true
or rational beliefs. If I exercise that option, I will spend the rest of my
life in a concrete cell with a bare light bulb.

On the other hand, I can take an injection which will cause
me to forget my true or rational beliefs. If I exercise that option, I will
spend the rest of my life in comfort, enjoying every amenity, under the
misconception that this is where and how I’ve always lived.

If I thought for a second that the CtC crew had innocent motives to explore the areas where Protestants and Roman Catholics agree and disagree, I’d be far more inclined to dialogue. But make no mistake, they aim for our conversion to Rome. The trophy wall of Reformed converts on their blog, and their very name are indicators. I watched as they gained a foothold over at Stellman’s blog, as many of us naively stood by and assumed they were in it for the dialogue, to my knowledge only John Bugay called shenanigans from the get-go. I can understand that they think they are on a noble mission, but what they in effect are seeking is to knock us off of the foundations of Scripture and the gospel we all confess. As a Reformed individual, I am loathe to acknowledge that anyone has noble, or even neutral motives.

Consider, for example, the “war on Christmas” that Fox News
plays up every autumn. The vote of one town council not to have a creche on the
front lawn of the town hall suddenly becomes another sobering sign of the
tightening noose on God’s persecuted elect.

It’s striking to see Rauser trivialize the specter of
persecuted Christians in North America. Rauser is Canadian. I’m no expert on
Canada, but isn’t the persecution of Canadian Christians a looming issue? For
instance:

Are
people valuable because we value them? Or do we value people because they are
valuable? Do people have intrinsic value or extrinsic value? Is one person’s
value relative to the value another person (or society) confers of him?

That’s the basic difference between the prolife and
proabortion positions. And you will have to radically different societies
depending on which principle you consistently carry out.

Now some atheists and/or hardline abortionists are prepared
to bite the bullet. They’ll admit that human beings have no inherent value. How
valuable you are depends on how much or little others value you.

Of course, there’s a catch. While this may be how they treat
others, that’s not how they want others to treat them.

Now, someone might object that, as a matter of fact, we do
value some people more than others. We value friends and relatives more than
strangers and enemies. So the distinction is artificial.

However, that’s not a real exception, for the two positions
are asymmetrical. The question is whether there’s a baseline below which human
value doesn’t go.

People can have intrinsic value, while, at the same time, we
value some more than others. The floor is not the ceiling. So those are
complementary positions.

By the same token, people can commit heinous acts that
exclude them from the human community. But that’s different than saying there’s
no least lower threshold on human value. Indeed, it’s because of what they did
to others that they forfeit their membership in society.

For instance, a friend has greater claims on me than a
stranger . So in some respects I’ll treat a friend better than a stranger. But
that doesn’t mean the stranger as worthless. To treat someone less well is not
to treat him badly. There are minimal standards for everyone.

This also means there’s an upper limit to how well we should
treat people. For instance, just because someone is my friend doesn’t mean I
should excuse everything he does. If he cheats a stranger, justice takes
precedence over friendship. In that situation, I have a greater duty to the
stranger.

Okay, so
women can now be official combatants. It’s striking to compare this with the
oft-recited meme that nowadays many men never grow up. We could, of course,
examine the accuracy of that depiction. But for now let’s play along with the
stereotype.

Imagine stay-at-home, unattached males greeting the news of
women co-opting a role traditionally reserved for men:

Terrific! By all means, let women do the fighting for us!
That’s one less thing for guys to do. Why should I risk my neck when women are
so eager to take my place? That frees me up to spend more time at the strip
joint.

Go for it, honey! Go fight for me. Be my guest. I’ll be
waiting for you if you make it back. (Well, to be honest, I probably won’t wait
for you.)

In fact, maybe we can lobby for an all-women’s army. Suit
them up and send them off to battle while us sensitive males stay behind to
play Paintball, water sports, video games, and surf the web for internet porn.
Isn’t women’s lib great!

Am I the only one on this planet that sees what has happened
to the Church?THIS IS INSANE!

You’re not alone, Drake. Many patients in padded cells are
equally convinced that they’re the only ones left who see what’s really going
on. Why won’t anyone listen to their warnings? Soooo frustrating!

I wish I could offer Drake more support, but the alien
overlords who invaded our planet won’t let me to explain how you can detect
their presence or distinguish them from the humans they impersonate.

Yet Steve Hays has admitted that there are many different
kinds of Unitarianism. Thus the accusation remains bogged down in ambiguity.

Likewise, there are many kinds of Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism,
&c. Since the many different kinds of unitarianism are damnable falsehoods,
a more exacting classification is moot.

My Nicene brothers, we can comfortably assume that when a
man comes against us with Romans 9:5, he is an excuseless, ignorant apostate.

The view taken here is that, while the NT often recognizes
fresh significances in its reading of OT texts (the church is heir to the
spiritual promises of God to Israel), Ezekiel’s own understanding of his
oracles must be determinative in our interpretation. If one could ask Ezekiel
whether or not he expected a literal regathering of his people, their return to
the land of Israel, their spiritual rejuvenation, and the restoration of a
Davidide on the throne, one would expect an unequivocally affirmative answer.
After all, Yahweh has given his word, and he will not renege on his eternal promises
to Abraham, Moses, and David.

However, although Ezekiel’s restoration oracles predict
literal events, not all of his descriptions portray the events literally. In
fact, from Ezk 34 to 48 his prophecies of hope become increasingly abstract and
ideational. It is not difficult to envision the regathering and revitalization
of the nation as described in chapters 34 and 36:16-38 and the main elements
should be taken seriously (similarly 37:15-28).

However, 37:1-14 is cast as a vision, with the dry bones
functioning symbolically for Israel; the Gog-Magog oracles (chs. 38-39) reads
like a literary cartoon, with many unreal and bizarre features; the final
temple vision is quite ideological, with many idealistic and fantastic elements
that are difficult to reconcile with geographical and cultural realities.

While Ezekiel undoubtedly envisages a real return of Israel
to the land of Palestine, the appointment of a Davidic Messiah, and a protracted
period of peace and prosperity for the nation, his vision remains narrowly
nationalistic. Apart from Yahweh’s guarantee of protection, even from universal
conspiracies against Israel (chs. 38-39), Ezekiel has little to say about the
cosmic implications of the new order. Since he does not offer a clear
chronology of latter day occurrences, one is cautioned against using the
details in his descriptions to construct a sequential calendar of
eschatological events.

Contrary to common popular opinion, the description of the
temple is not presented as a blueprint for some future building to be
constructed with human hands. The vision picks up on the theme of divine
presence announced in 37:26-27 and describes the spiritual reality in concrete
terms, employing the familiar cultural idioms of temple, alter, sacrifices,
nasi, and land.

Unitarians
take the position that the Father is the default referent of Yahweh or Elohim
in the OT. I’ve discussed this contention before, but now I’d like to approach
the issue from a different angle.

One of the major themes in the Fourth Gospel is the Son’s
role as the revelation of the Father. By knowing the Son, you come to know the
Father as well. The Son uniquely mediates knowledge of the Father. Other NT
passages pick up on the same theme.

If, however, OT references to God single out the Father, then
the Jews already knew the Father from OT revelation. They had direct knowledge
of the Father.

So why would we need indirect knowledge of the Father via
the Son? On the unitarian view, knowing the Son doesn’t contribute anything
unique to the knowledge of the Father we can get straight from the source in the
pages of the OT. Indeed, on a unitarian view, knowing the Son would be a
superfluous and inferior means of knowing the Father, compared to the immediacy
of OT revelation.

I’ll comment on his screed. After that, I’ll append the
comments I left at his blog, leading up to his screed.

If homosexuals are “sodomites” what does that make the rest
of us?

What an odd title. Since “sodomite” is simply a traditional
synonym for homosexual, that tautology doesn’t carry any implications for the
rest of us. Rauser might as well do a post entitled If single men are
bachelors, what does that make the rest of us? Short answer: nothing in particular.

Our story begins this past Saturday when I published an
article called “Why do conservative Christians think everything is getting
worse?” In the article I pointed out that the data is, at best, ambiguous and
that much of it indicates broad societal improvement over the last two
centuries and more. Alan Kurschner took issue with this claim, and part of his
argument consisted of asking a simple question:

“is Canada more or less tolerant of sodomy today than it was
in 1800? I’d like an answer from you.”

My initial answer was “wow”. There is a popular stereotype
that conservative Christians are disproportionately concerned with sexual
ethics over-against other important ethical issues. And now Alan was confirming
that stereotype by suggesting that an assessment of the moral status of
Canadian society c. 2000 over-against Canadian society c. 1800 could be settled
simply by considering the legislation and social mores in each period on the
issue of “sodomy”.

Rauser began with the straw man that premils think
“everything is getting worse.” Rauser then cited what he took to be
counterexamples to the straw man he was burning in effigy. Alan then cited a
counterexample to his counterexample.

Rauser then responds by burning another strawman by acting
as if Alan thinks the status of homosexuality is the only index of social
morality. Needless to say, Alan didn’t say that or imply that. This is simply
Rauser’s demagogical caricature.

I wondered at the time whether Alan was aware that one of
the stars in the conservative Reformed firmament, Mark Driscoll, provides a
spirited defense of anal intercourse between husband and wife in his book Real
Marriage (p. 187 ff.). This is significant. You see, according to the English
Buggery Act of 1533, buggery or sodomy included anal intercourse between a man
and a woman. And since Canadian laws against sodomy were based on this act, had
Mark Driscoll published his racy marital guide in 1800 in Canada he could have
faced prison … or worse.

Of course, that’s just a distraction. And is far as that
goes, Driscoll’s position was denounced by various Calvinists. Driscoll has
come under fire for other things as well. If he’s a star in the Reformed
firmament, he’s a falling star.

I didn’t bother to pursue that point since I took Alan to be
using the term “sodomy” more or less equivalent to “homosexuality”. (Though one
can surely pause to marvel at the irony here.)

Where’s the irony?

So I provided a reply to him in “Sodomy and the Kingdom of
God” in which I asked him whether he thought homosexuals should be killed in
accord with Canadian law c. 1800. Neither he nor Steve Hays (to whom I also
posed the question) had the courage to provide a reply. This, in itself, is
extremely disturbing. What is one to think when the question “Should this
person be killed for their actions?” is met with silence?

That’s a demonstrable lie. I didn’t meet Rauser’s question
with silence. Rather, I pointed out that Rauser was grasping for a pretext to
change the subject.

This got started when Rauser caricatured premillennialism.
Since it’s so easy to cite counterexamples which puncture his caricature,
Rauser then felt the need to save face by deflecting attention away from his
original, bankrupt argument.

Not surprisingly, these questions were also met with
silence. Why?

i) It as met with silence (from Alan's end) because Alan is a busy guy. He
wasn’t monitoring Rauser’s blog.

ii) Notice Rauser’s scurrilous pseudo-logic. Alan cited the
normalization of homosexuality as a mark of social decadence. How does Rauser manage
to go from that position to the allegation that Alan thinks homosexuals should
be executed? There’s no logical validity to that move.

I can’t speak for Alan, but there standard reasons why
conservative Christians might oppose homosexuality, but also oppose the
execution of homosexuals.

i) They often regard most of the death penalties in the
Mosaic Law as a reflection of Israel's cultic holiness. Something not carried
over into the new covenant.

ii) Even during the OT era, some scholars regard the death
penalty as a maximum penalty, not a mandatory penalty. Subject to commutation
(except in case of murder).

So Rauser's imputation is fallacious.

iii) However, it remains the case that sodomy was a capital
offense in OT law. According to God, sodomy merits the death penalty. Rauser
may stamp his feet, but I prefer to take my cue from God’s disapproval rather
than Rauser’s disapproval.

iv) From a Scriptural standpoint, sin generally merits the
death penalty (e.g. Rom 6:23). That’s why everyone dies. At that level, every
sin is a capital offense.

At the same time, every sin is not a crime. Although every
sinner is worthy of death, that doesn’t translate into penology. Scripture
itself is selective in that respect.

I presume because it is easier to judge the actions of
others at a distance rather than the sins that are going on in your midst.

That’s very rich coming from Rauser. When attacking the
alleged hypocrisy of others, Rauser has 20/20 vision. But he suffers from
instant glaucoma where his own conduct is concerned.

In a subsequent discussion with Steve Hays I then pointed
out that Alan was crassly attributing to me statements I never made. I wrote:

“By the way Alan Kurschner wrote an article titled “Randal
Rauser Asserts Premillennialism is Pessimistic, Therefore, it is Against Social
Justice and the Environment”. I never said any such thing. I trust that you’ll
set Alan straight.”

To the contrary, Alan’s ascriptions were completely
accurate. In his initial argument against premillennialism, Rauser resorted to
straw men and hasty generalizations. When challenged, Rauser began to rewrite
the history of his argument, then backdate his revised argument as if that’s
what he’d been saying all along. Yet you only have to compare his current statements
with his original statements to see the difference.

Here was Steve’s reply:

“I have no doubt that Alan is straight. You’re the one who’s
defending sodomites.”

Note what Steve does here. In response to my point that Alan
has attributed blatantly false claims to me…

Far from being “blatantly false,” Alan’s characterization of
Rauser’s argument was blatantly true. The only thing which needs to be set
straight is Rauser’s crooked behavior.

“Steve, we all know you hate homosexuals. But the real
question is: what should be done with the remarried divorcees that fill the
pews of churches, the very ones Jesus called adulterers? Why don’t you field
that question since Alan refused to?”

That’s not a “strange non sequitur.” Here’s another example
of Rauser’s deceptive debate tactics. Look at the full exchange:

Randal Rauser

By the way Alan Kurschner wrote an article titled
"Randal Rauser Asserts Premillennialism is Pessimistic, Therefore, it is
Against Social Justice and the Environment". I never said any such thing.

I trust that you'll set Alan straight.

steve hays

I have no doubt that Alan is straight. You're the one who's
defending sodomites.

Randal Rauser

Steve, we all know you hate homosexuals. But the real
question is: what should be done with the remarried divorcees that fill the
pews of churches, the very ones Jesus called adulterers? Why don't you field
that question since Alan refused to?

steve hays

Randal, we all
know you hate Yahweh.

My statement that “Randal, we all know you hate Yahweh” is
an obvious riposte to his statement that “Steve, we all know you hate
homosexuals.”

So, no, my statement is not a “strange non sequitur.” But
Rauser edited the exchange to eliminate his own statement, which I was
responding to.

“Please answer the direct question. What should be done with
the remarried divorcees that fill the pews of churches, the very ones Jesus
called adulterers?”

Not surprisingly, Steve refused to answer. Like his friend
Alan, he prefers to focus his moral outrage on the sins of a select group
rather than focus on the moral failings in his midst, even when the issue is
one Jesus specifically addressed.

i) Rauser is so transparent. Does he really think people
can’t see what he’s up to? This is just a distraction. Because he bungled his
original argument against premillennialism, he’s laboring to deflect attention
away from his failure. He does that by a show of mock indignation.

If I played into his diversion, that would give him the
excuse he’s desperately seeking to shift attention to a discussion of my
answer, thereby hoping readers will forget the original issue, which was his
caricature of premillennialism.

ii) As far as that goes, I’ve discussed the pastoral issue
of divorced parishioners on my blog.

iii) Since I’m not divorced, I’m not guilty of hypocrisy in
that respect.

Of course Jesus didn’t just address divorce. In the Sermon
on the Mount he drops an atom bomb on the “sinner vs. the rest of us”
mentality. Jesus offers us a moral universe that is breathtakingly egalitarian:
we’re all sinners, we’re all in need of redemption. It’s a world in which we
recognize ourselves as the chief of all sinners and in which there’s no hatred
left for others because it is all directed at stamping out the sin nature in
our own decaying souls.

i) Rauser is now inventing a nonexistent position to attack,
as if that has any bearing on Alan’s position or mine.

ii) Funny to compare Rauser’s disclaimer about an
us-versus-them mentality in the context of a post which is completely framed in
terms of Rauser’s us-versus-them mentality.

iii) Keep in mind that Rauser repudiates the moral authority
of Jesus. This is coming from a man who thinks Jesus can give false theological
answers. So why is Rauser wrapping himself in the mantle of the Sermon on the
Mount? Even if we agreed with his glib interpretation of what Jesus said,
Rauser’s kenotic Christology dissolves the moral authority of Jesus.

iv) Paul singles out homosexuality in Rom 1. From all the
sins that Paul could choose to illustrate man’s moral and spiritual revolt, he
makes homosexuality the showcase sin.

v) Divorce and sodomy aren’t morally equivalent. According
to Scripture, sodomy is intrinsically wrong. By contrast, divorce is not
intrinsically wrong. It depends on the circumstances.

“Evangelical obedience” is a grand old phrase, which has sadly faded from use & familiarity in Reformation circles. It captures the old, Reformed orthodoxy regarding sanctification and its source – not the Law, but the Gospel....

(By the way, the Greek verb “to justify” means “to declare righteous,” not simply “innocent,” so the imputation of righteousness is implied in the very definition of the word. That’s free, no charge, for anyone who thinks the imputation of Christ’s righteousness is not essential to justification.)...

I like this quaint old phrase. I think we should revive its use. It clarifies where Christian obedience – imperfect as it is – comes from. It is not from the Law, but from the evangel, the Gospel. The Law guides and defines that obedience. But only the Gospel produces it. But stay humble, kids. Even your “evangelical obedience” has only a “small beginning” in this life – Heidelberg 114 (based on Romans 7:14-15). Your good works could never stand the severity of God’s judgment apart from Christ – Westminster Confession 16.5 (Is 64:6, Gal 5:17, etc). You still need Jesus, to mediate your “evangelical obedience” which is defiled by your sin (1 Pet 2:5). But He makes it a beautiful thing in the sight of the Father, and graciously rewards it.

That remark is as good a place as any to start for the sake of explaining what’s wrong with your approach at the most fundamental, philosophical level.

There is nothing wrong with my approach at any level, much less “the most fundamental, philosophical level”. As I’ve explained repeatedly, the “fundamental, philosophical level” that you want to bring up has been necessitated by the fact that you need to explain away some things (very many things) and account for the addition of very many other things.

In your writings, you often quote one or more English translations of the Bible. Precisely as translations, they are interpretations of critical editions of the Bible in the original languages. Those critical editions, in turn, are interpretations of what’s written on the pages of the all the oldest codices that survive. And “what the Bible says,” to the extent we know it, is what’s written on those pages. So, what you quote is not “what the Bible says.” What you quote are interpretations of interpretations of what the Bible says.

You use the word “interpretations” very loosely. It’s true that there is some need for judgment, on some issues, but very, very infrequently is there a need to make an “interpretation” that changes anything at all that is significant.

Jeff, that's not mind-reading. That's Driscoll judging Obama
both by his theological statements as well as his political policies. Judging
Obama by his public persona, not his inaccessible mental states. That would be
no different than, say, Albert Mohler denying that John Spong is a genuine
Christian.

Jeffery Jay Lowder

I was wondering if I would get this response.

I'll go ahead and bite. Without even asking you to supply
any sources (yet :) ), can you summarize the theological statements and
political policies which you take to be evidence that Obama is not a Christian?

steve hays

There's his interview with Cathleen Falsani, where he
positions himself on the far left of the theological spectrum. There's the fact
that he was comfortable with the James Cone brand of theology espoused by
Jeremiah Wright. Then you have his position on issues like abortion and
homosexuality, which are at odds with Christian ethics. Those are some
examples.

steve hays

Jeffery
Jay Lowder

“I have
some questions. As I write this post, I recognize that these questions may seem
stupid to someone who has studied theology as much as you, so I'll understand
if you decide that answering them is not worth your time. Or, if you want to
provide links for each question, that's fine with me.’

Thanks
Jeff. Those are intelligent, reasonable questions. I’m going to answer (3) last
because that demands a more detailed answer.

“1. I'm
not familiar with the interview with Falsani. Without looking it up, I can't
tell why "he positions himself on the far left of the theological
spectrum" means (or makes probable) that Obama is not a Christian. Why do
you believe that?”

Among
other things, Obama says: “I believe that there are many paths to the same
place, and that is a belief that there is a higher power, a belief that we are
connected as a people.”

That’s
classic religious pluralism. At best, that would make Jesus one Savior among
many. Jesus is a Savior, Buddha is a Savior, Krishna is a Savior, &c.

Obama
also says: “Jesus is an historical figure for me, and he’s also a bridge
between God and man, in the Christian faith, and one that I think is powerful
precisely because he serves as that means of us reaching something higher.”

i) He
says Jesus is a historical figure “for me,” as if historicity is relative.
Historical for me, but not for you.

ii) He
reduces Jesus to a bridge or means of reaching something higher. But in
orthodox Christology, Jesus is God the Son Incarnate. As such, there’s nothing
or no one higher than Christ.

Obama
also says: “And he’s also a wonderful teacher. I think it’s important for all
of us, of whatever faith, to have teachers in the flesh and also teachers in
history.”

This
puts Jesus on the same level of other spiritual guides. Classic religious
syncretism or pluralism.

“2. Why
is the James Cone brand of theology incompatible with Christianity?”

“4.
Regarding homosexuality, I agree that the Bible, when interpreted literally,
condemns homosexuality. Why can't someone be a Christian and not interpret the
Bible literally?”

i)
What’s the alternative to taking those condemnations literally? Treating them
allegorically? Do they stand for something else? What would that be?

Take
this passage:

“9 Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the
kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor
idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, 10 nor thieves,
nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the
kingdom of God” (1 Cor 6:9-10).

Logically,
we’d interpret the statement about homosexuality the same way we’d interpret
the statements about other vices. If we take the other statements literally,
why not the statement about homosexuality?

ii) Many
atheists take those condemnations literally. They say the Bible is
“homophobic,” “transphobic,” &c.

iii)
Apropos (ii), one doesn’t have to believe the Bible to believe the Bible
condemns homosexuality. For instance, Luke Timothy Johnson is a leading
Catholic NT scholar who admits the NT condemns homosexuality, but denies that
we are bound by NT teaching. For Johnson, this is not a question of Biblical
interpretation, but Biblical authority:

“That
challenge is to take our tradition and the Scripture with at least as much
seriousness as those who use the Bible as a buttress for rejecting forms of
sexual love they fear or cannot understand. The task demands intellectual
honesty. I have little patience with efforts to make Scripture say something other
than what it says, through appeals to linguistic or cultural subtleties. The
exegetical situation is straightforward: we know what the text says. But what
are we to do with what the text says? We must state our grounds for standing in
tension with the clear commands of Scripture, and include in those grounds some
basis in Scripture itself. To avoid this task is to put ourselves in the very
position that others insist we already occupy—that of liberal despisers of the
tradition and of the church’s sacred writings, people who have no care for the
shared symbols that define us as Christian. If we see ourselves as liberal,
then we must be liberal in the name of the gospel, and not, as so often has
been the case, liberal despite the gospel. I think it important to state
clearly that we do, in fact, reject the straightforward commands of Scripture,
and appeal instead to another authority when we declare that same-sex unions
can be holy and good. And what exactly is that authority?”

“3. I'm
well aware that many (most?) Christians believe that human life and personhood
begins at conception. What I don't understand is why can't someone consistently
believe that Jesus is their lord and savior and believe that personhood begins
after conception but before birth? For example, why can't a Christian believe
that a soul is "attached" (if that is the right word) to the unborn
child once the brain reaches a certain stage of development?”

i) The
personhood or cognitive development of the unborn is not a necessary
precondition of the Christian prolife argument.

iv) More
generally, Obama’s attitude towards the unborn is antithetical to the Christian
principle of neighbor-love. It’s like a man climbing a ladder who kicks someone
else off the ladder. The man higher up the ladder kicks a man in the head who’s
just below him to knock him off.

Obama’s
attitude is murderously ungenerous. Because he got a head start, he doesn’t
grant others behind him the same opportunity he had. To take a few comparisons:

a)
Suppose you have a race in which one runner prevents the other runner from having
a fair chance to win by cheating. Suppose the cheater spikes the drinking water
of his competitor, so that his competitor becomes sick. We consider that
contemptible, yet that’s trivial compared to abortion, where the baby has far
more to lose.

b) Take
fictional stories in which a character has discovered the secret of
immortality. He regenerates by sapping the youth of teenagers. They die so that
he can live. We’d consider that immoral. He had a normal lifespan, yet he
denies to others the chance to enjoy what he had.

v) For
reasons I’ve given elsewhere, Obama’s position is hypocritical:

vi) He
treats children as a burden or “punishment” rather than a blessing or gift,
contrary to Biblical values.

vii) He
defies the special parental duty that mothers and fathers have to protect and
provide for their children. Parents have a Christian obligation to risk their
lives to protect their kids, rather than risking their kid’s life to protect
themselves.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

In a thread at the Stand To Reason blog, I've been discussing some of the evidence for John's authorship of the fourth gospel. I mentioned five lines of evidence that all point in the same direction, toward authorship by John, son of Zebedee:

This will be quick. Sometimes Calvinists hear that their belief in divine determinism makes regrets unintelligible. One Arminian puts it like this:

It would seem that regrets can only make sense, however, if we hold to a libertarian view of free will. Regrets are nonsensical if we believe that all of our actions are determined by decree and circumstances which are beyond our control. There is no point feeling regret for something you could not possibly have done otherwise; yet we still feel regret.
Do Calvinists feel regret? How do they work such feelings into their worldview? Do they temporally shelve their worldview when confronted with the experiences of daily human life? Do they somehow train themselves to have no regrets so as to conform their feelings with their belief in determinism? I am curious to know.

I've had regrets, most of us have. Mine, and I'm assuming this is so for most people, go roughly like this: This situation I've brought about is somehow undesirable. If I knew then what I know now, I'd do differently. But this is consistent with determinism: Same past, same future; different past, different future (perhaps). What's the alternative? Do I say, "I wish I would have done otherwise given the exact same circumstances, the exact same information, the exact same reasons, the exact same belief-desire complexes, etc.? Would I have done differently? That seems quite odd to me. Why would I have done differently? Why think I would have done otherwise? I don't regret something by looking back and saying I would have done differently given the exact same situation. I don't think many others think that either. They might say, "I noticed X back then, but didn't think it was relevant. I wish I would have seen the relevance of X to my situation, then I would have done otherwise." And this, of course, is fully consistent with determinism.

I don’t see how this helps me to know which of us is right and which is suppressing the truth by his wickedness. I believe God’s Voice has told me the Catholic Church is His Body and men can be saved only through it; you believe – well, you don’t believe that! Is one of us suppressing the truth by his wickedness, therefore?

[Question]: Is [the Church’s] structure established by Christ or by the vote of human beings?

[Response]: 1 Timothy 3:1ff, among other passages, gives us the divine structure of the church, and human beings didn’t vote on that God-given structure. That structure says that the “bishop must be…” while the history of [Roman Catholicism] demonstrates to us that the “bishop need not be…” in terms of what is prerequisite for that office.

Not only is there an explanation for why “the bishop need not be…”, but on top of that you have also superimposed a papacy, and you especially have all kinds of explanations for why “the pope need not be…” In this case, the “…” lists all kinds of, really, divinely-structured guidelines such as “be above reproach, faithful to his wife, temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, not given to drunkenness, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. He must manage his own family well and see that his children obey him, and he must do so in a manner worthy of full respect. (If anyone does not know how to manage his own family, how can he take care of God’s church?)”.

I know God is not a senile old uncle in the New Testament,
but he is less–well, reactionary about certain things. Comedian Lewis Black
wonders if having a son mellowed God out a bit. You might not like the joke but
you can get the point.

Do conservative Christians think “everything” is getting
worse? Is that just a catchy title? Is the title hyperbolic? Or does Rauser
really think that’s accurate? If so, then he’s burning a straw man.

Rauser is claiming a correlation between what “conservative
Christians” believe about social trends, and their eschatology. If, however,
Rauser is equivocating, then that vitiates his comparison.

The answer is simple: eschatology. Eschatology is the
doctrine of last things, and most Christian conservatives these days continue
to be premillennial in their eschatology.

What about conservative Christians who are not premils? What
about confessional Lutherans, Anglicans, and Presbyterians–to name a few? If
Rauser correlates the alleged belief that “everything is getting worse” to the
corollary belief in premillennialism, and many conservative Christians who
allegedly believe “everything is getting worse” don’t buy into that
eschatology, then Rauser’s claim is demonstrably false.

Premillennialism is often described as a pessimistic eschatology,
one that expects conditions to get progressively worse until Jesus comes back
and establishes his millennial kingdom.

i) To begin with, what premil distinctive predicts for
conditions to get progressively worse until the Parousia? Can Rauser pinpoint
out the distinctive premil doctrine which selects for that prediction?

Is there a triggering event? If so, has the triggering event
occurred?

Incidentally, the assumption here is that the progression or
regression of which we speak is moral in nature. Obviously if we’re talking
technological progress alone the postmillennialists would have won the debate
long ago. But admittedly if you shift the discussion to the question of moral
progress the space for debate opens up. After all, there is no shortage of
societies in history that have been on the vanguard of technological progress
and yet have also been morally brutish.

I am not a premillennialist, and I find premillennialism
disturbing for one important reason: it tends to breed passivity in those who
accept it.

Yet Rauser just said:

…while amillennialism is described as realistic since it
thinks we’ll progress and regress — two steps forward, one step back; one step
forward, two steps back — until Jesus returns.)

And Rauser calls himself an amil. However, wouldn’t his
description of amillennialism breed passivity? He makes it sound like a
cyclical process where all the progress you make at low tide is washed out at
high tide. But if every advance is met by a setback, why bother? Your efforts
to improve the situation are continually undone. So perhaps Rauser can explain,
by his own logic, why amils shouldn’t be passive spectators.

If things are expected to get worse, then what’s the use of
trying to make them better?

Notice the fatal ambiguity. “Expected to get worse” when? At
what point in history do premils expect things to get worse?

For instance, suppose premils expect “everything” to get
worse 10 years before the Parousia. That would only breed passivity if they
know the Parousia will happen in the near future. Then they can count back from
the date of the Parousia to when “everything” gets worse. But what if premils
have no idea when Jesus is coming back? In that case, how would their abstract
belief that things will go downhill shortly before Jesus returns breed
passivity?

To take a comparison, suppose my kitchen sink is clogged. Suppose
astronomers announce that eventually an asteroid is going to destroy my town.
Do I not call a plumber to unclog my sink because, at some wholly unspecified
time in the future, an asteroid will reduce my kitchen to rubble?

Indeed (and this where things can get really perverse), one
could even get to the point of reasoning that seeking to reduce the misery in
the world and increase acts of justice and mercy could effectively be
postponing the return of Christ since he won’t show up until things get really
bad. And which Christian wants to delay Christ’s return?

i) Even if (ex hypothesi) we could delay Christ’s return,
that would be beneficial to future generations, some of whom would become
Christian and thereby enjoy eternal life.

ii) Couldn’t one just as well argue that evangelism hastens
the return of Christ (“And this gospel of the kingdom will be proclaimed
throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will
come,” Mt 24:14)? Therefore, that would breed missionary/evangelistic activism
rather than passivity.

I’m not saying that a premillennialist cannot consistently
fight for justice whilst holding this pessimistic theology. But every theology
has dangerous tendencies, and in this case the tendency toward passivity is a
serious concern.

Sounds like a good opportunity for Rauser to come clean on the
dangerous tendencies in his own theology.

This leads to another problem. Premillennial Christians
often expect that Christians will become a specially targeted minority as
history devolves toward Armageddon. As a result, ever instance of Christians
being targeted as Christians feeds into the interpretive framework and provides
more evidence for the “persecuted minority” trope. Consider, for example, the “war on Christmas” that Fox News
plays up every autumn. The vote of one town council not to have a creche on the
front lawn of the town hall suddenly becomes another sobering sign of the
tightening noose on God’s persecuted elect.

i) Since Christians are persecuted at different times and
places throughout church history, why would “every instance” of Christian
persecution presage the apocalypse?

ii) BTW, notice how Rauser trivializes the widening scope of
antipathy to traditional Christian values in North America, Europe, the UK. Yet
it’s not just premils who’ve drawn attention to that ominous development. Is
Robert P. George a dispensationalist? Nigel M. de S. Cameron a
dispensationalist? Is John Warwick Montgomery a dispensationalist? Is Wesley J.
Smith a dispensationalist? Is Francis Beckwith a dispensationalist?

There are many dangers with this kind of thinking. Here’s
one: if you always think of yourself as the persecuted minority you are that
much more liable to miss the moments when you are in the wrong. Do you have any
idea how many Christian conservatives in 1950s Alabama interpreted the rise of
the civil rights movement as evidence of their status as a beleaguered,
persecuted minority of God’s people? A sobering thought indeed.

Is that a fact? In reference to whom did 1950s Alabamans
view themselves as a persecuted minority? Did white Alabamans view themselves
as a religious minority group? Didn’t they considerably outnumber black
Alabamans?

Does Rauser mean they viewed themselves as a persecuted
minority in relation to the Federal gov’t? Was the Eisenhower administration
spearheading the civil rights movement? To my knowledge, it wasn’t until Bobby
Kennedy became Attorney General that the Feds got seriously involved in the
civil rights movement.

What about 1950s South Carolinians? Weren’t many 1950s South
Carolinians Presbyterian or Episcopalian? So what’s the connection with
dispensational eschatology?

On what issues are Christian conservatives currently on the
wrong side of history?

I can’t think of any. Maybe Rauser will enlighten us.

And to what extent is their premillennial eschatology
blinding them to that fact?

Nothing like a loaded question.

I was raised in this tradition so I know it from the inside.

He doesn’t know 1950s Alabama from the inside.

Christian conservatives often exercise a clear confirmation
bias as every major disaster (e.g. earthquakes, tsunamis, wars) and every
attack on Christians (e.g. the removal of the creche from the lawn of the town
hall) is marshalled in support of the “Things are getting worse” thesis.

i) Notice Rauser’s bait-n-switch. There’s a basic difference
between a “things are getting worse thesis” and an “everything is getting
worse” thesis. Do conservative Christians take the position that everything is
getting worse?

If anything, isn’t it just the opposite? Don’t global
warming alarmists take every natural disaster as confirmation that things are
getting worse?

But what is counted for the “Things are getting better”
thesis? If you start counting from this side then things become decidedly more
ambiguous.

Do conservative Christians take the position that nothing
has gotten better over time? Isn’t Rauser indulging in blatant hasty
generalizations?

This is what I challenged my students to do last week when I
was teaching a course in Christian worldview. After hearing that things were
getting worse in Canadian society, I presented them with a challenge based on
John Rawls’ “original position” thought experiment. I put it as follows:

Imagine that you could choose to be born into Canadian
society in the year 1800, 1900 or 2000 while not knowing what your gender, ethnicity
or socio-economic status would be. Which year would you choose to be born into?

While I didn’t call for a formal vote, the response of the
class seemed unanimous. Contemporary Canadian society — for all its great
faults — is still on the whole a far more just society today than it was one or
two hundred years ago. In many ways we are a far more compassionate and civil
society than we once were. Now extend the thought experiment. What about being
born in Canada in 1800 or Assyria in 800 BC? To ask the question is to answer
it. In almost all cases ancient societies were far more brutish than modern
societies.

Several issues:

i) I’m not qualified to speak to the Canadian situation.
There are, however, Canadians who don’t seem to share Rauser’s sanguine view of
social trends in Canada. For instance, consider the Canadian Centre for
Bio-Ethical Reform.

ii) Is it Rauser’s claim that according to premil
eschatology, everything will go downhill after 1800? Can Rauser quote
dispensational scholars like Darrell Bock, Dan Wallace, Craig Blaising, Buist Fanning, or
John Feinberg who take that position?

iii) Seems to me that Rauser defines progress through the
self-congratulatory eyes of a white liberal. But do the minority groups on whose behalf he presumes
to speak share his glowing outlook?

Thanks for the link Alan. I'll give Steve one thing:
"pessimillennialism" is a clever neologism.

Actually, it’s Gary North who coined that term. The fact
that Rauser doesn’t know that shows how little he really knows about the issue.

Unfortunately things go downhill from there. Steve
obfuscates on the meaning of the word "pessimism" in the critique. If
you follow the logic of his strange argument then Westboro Baptist Church has
an "optimistic" eschatology which is absurd.

Notice that Rauser isn’t responding to my specific analysis.

Equally problematic is Steve's apparent ignorance of the
real-world impact of dispensationalism (which is the primary target here) on
matters like environmental concern and social justice. Numerous scholars (e.g.
Mark Noll, George Marsden) have chronicled the negative impact
dispensationalism has had on North American evangelicalism.

i) What is Rauser alluding to, exactly? What “environmental
concerns” does he have in mind? Global warming? Unless I missed it, George
Marsden doesn’t link opposition to global warming alarmists to
dispensationalism in his classic, revised monograph on Fundamentalism and
American Culture.

ii) What about Christian critics of global warming alarmists
like James Wanliss?

iii) And Rauser’s chronologically-challenged reference to
1950s Alabama doesn’t inspire my confidence in his command of U.S. history–not
to mention how the dispensational culprit breaks down when you consider
the religious demographics of other Southern states like S. Carolina.

I note finally that Steve ignored the central thesis of the
article, namely the evidence I provide that the pessimism thesis is not borne
out by the facts.

Notice that Rauser begins by imputing to me or to
dispensationalism a “pessimistic” eschatology, when that ascription is the very
issue in dispute, then faults me for ignoring his counterexamples. But, of
course, that’s predicated on a false premise. I never granted his contention
that conservative Christians think “everything” is getting worse. Therefore,
even if I accepted his counterexamples, that’s a red herring.

There are vast numbers of Reformed dispensationalists in
North America. Think Moody Bible Institute and Dallas Theological Seminary.